


Our Side

by Lady of Prompts (Aethelflaed)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: ButterOmens, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Holding Hands, Hope, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Scared Aziraphale (Good Omens), Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelflaed/pseuds/Lady%20of%20Prompts
Summary: After the end, on the bus ride home, Aziraphale despairs. But Crowley shares a new dream...--“Imagine…Imagine, just for a second, we survive it. What then?”For a moment, he thought Aziraphale might actually consider it. Then he shook his head. “Th-they’ll just try again.” The first tear slid down his cheek, unheeded.“No.” Crowley reached out with his smallest finger, rested it on the side of Aziraphale’s hand. The angel flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Skip past that part. We beat them. We’re free. Then what?”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 71
Kudos: 302





	Our Side

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was created during the ButterOmens event, inspired by [this drawing](https://sani-86.tumblr.com/post/612222966873374720/im-gonna-put-this-up-for-n0nb1narydemons) by [Sani-86.](https://sani-86.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ButterOmens invites all content creators to participate, by reinterpreting, expanding, or retelling each other's works in any medium. If you would like to contribute, please remember to tag the original post on Tumblr!
> 
> [Rules for ButterOmens can be found here.](https://n0nb1narydemon.tumblr.com/post/611808756218707968) Thanks to [n0nb1narydemon](https://n0nb1narydemon.tumblr.com/) and [acuteangleaziraphale](https://acuteangleaziraphale.tumblr.com/) for coming up with this event!
> 
> (Slight CW for one paragraph where Aziraphale describes a punishment he saw in Heaven; it's not graphic, but it's not a pleasant image either.)

“You can stay at my place. If you like.”

More emotions than Crowley could count rose up in Aziraphale’s eyes. Hope, more than any other, lifting him, buoying him – and then it all came crashing down again.

“I don’t think my side would like that.” He’d never seen the angel so close to tears.

“You don’t have a side anymore. Neither of us do.” It wasn’t a hopeful thought. Whatever else Hell might have meant - a prison, a place of torment - it was also safety. Demons took care of their own, as did angels. 

Not anymore. Not for them. “We’re on our own side.” 

The bus arrived, and he climbed aboard, dropping into a seat as he always did, staring out the window at the darkness.

Aziraphale, stiffly, uncertainly, sat down next to him.

The angel’s hand clutched the edge of his seat, fingers burrowing deep into the fabric, four inches from where Crowley’s lay in his own lap.

“They’ll destroy us either way, won’t they.” It wasn’t a question. Aziraphale stared straight ahead. “Whatever we do next.”

“I don’t think they can touch Adam,” Crowley said slowly. “Definitely can’t touch the humans. There’s rules about that. Just leaves us.” He glanced at Aziraphale, paler than Crowley had ever seen him. “And…they’re very angry.”

A frown crossed the angel’s face. “You couldn’t have just lied, could you?”

“I would never lie to you.”

Aziraphale nodded, eyes crushed tightly shut, body braced as if expecting the attack any second.

Crowley let his hand fall from his lap, rest in the space between them, just an inch from Aziraphale’s. He could feel the heat of it. Feel the way it trembled under the strain.

“It was easier before.” Aziraphale’s voice was so tight. “There was so much activity. I didn’t have time to think. But now…”

“Now it’s all you can see.”

Aziraphale’s hand clenched as he seemed to pull himself deeper into the seat. “How…how do you think they’ll do it? There aren’t many ways to…to destroy an angel…but we certainly got creative. During the War.” Something that was possibly supposed to be a laugh, but sounded like a noise of distress. “There was one…they just pulled him apart, every wing every limb. Cast him into a pit, one piece at a time. It took so long. And he was still screaming.” Tears hovered at the corners of his scrunched-up eyes. “They…they made us all watch…”

“Don’t think about that,” Crowley whispered, even as he felt his own stomach drop. Both sides had learned well from their enemies.

“Wha – what else would I think about?”

“Imagine…Imagine, just for a second, we survive it. What then?”

For a moment, he thought Aziraphale might actually consider it. Then he shook his head. “Th-they’ll just try again.” The first tear slid down his cheek, unheeded.

“No.” Crowley reached out with his smallest finger, rested it on the side of Aziraphale’s hand. The angel flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Skip past that part. We beat them. We’re free. Then what?”

Aziraphale shrugged, helplessly.

“I’ll tell you. First, we’ll go get dinner. Someplace new. The Greenhouse, La Gavroche, The Sketch…maybe that one with the angry chef from the telly. I’ll drink half their alcohol and you can have a hundred desserts.”

“I can’t think about food. I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again.”

“You will.” Crowley let a second finger drift over, gently massaging the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “And after dinner, we’ll go for a walk. Where haven’t we been for a while? Regent’s Park?”

Aziraphale’s frown flickered, the furrow of his brow smoothing just a little. “Hyde Park. The rose gardens.”

“Oh, yes.” Crowley let himself smile. They hadn’t been since the arches had first been put up. “I bet they’re coming along nicely now. We’ll stay all day. Walk by the water. Feed the ducks. See if that weird upside-down tree is still there.”

“I…I’d like that.”

“And after that…” He slid his two fingers around Aziraphale’s pinky finger. “After that, you can come home with me.”

As he expected, the angel tensed at that, hand convulsing, but still he didn’t pull away. “Crowley…I couldn’t…”

“Yes. You could. You can. As long as you like.” He let his whole hand settle over Aziraphale’s now, covering it, running his thumb across the knuckles. “It’s not…cozy. But we can fix that. Get a sofa. Something big and old and soft, and sit on it until it takes the shape of our bodies.” It had taken him _decades_ to get the sofa at the shop just right. “And some bookcases. I know you lost…so much, but we’ll start again. Every weekend, markets and shops and wherever else. Hunt down all those first editions all over again.”

“And you would…come with me?”

“What else am I gonna do? But I only allow the _best_ in my flat. So you’ll…you’ll have to read them to me, so I can decide what stays.”

“On the sofa?” He turned his head a little, almost smiling.

“Yeah. On the sofa. We’ll sit there together and…I’ll play music, I’ve got a fantastic collection. Wagner. Vivaldi. Elvis.”

“Not more modern nonsense.” This time he definitely smiled.

“Yes, modern nonsense. If you’re going to introduce me to these new books, I’m going to get you into new music. It’s only fair.”

“Well. As you say.” Slowly, Aziraphale turned his hand over, clasped it around Crowley’s. “Only the _best.”_

“Yes. And…” Crowley took a deep breath. “And I know you don’t sleep, but I’ll get you your own room. Comfy bed. Reading chair. So you can go off and be alone, when I get to be too much.”

For the first time, Aziraphale lifted his face to meet Crowley’s eyes. There were still tears, still fear, but now there was hope again, and something else. “And…if I don’t want my own room?”

Crowley swallowed. “That…yeah, that works, too.” He lifted their hands, settling them together on his knee. “Um. Where…would you want to go? When I sleep?”

Instead of answering, Aziraphale slowly moved the last few inches, until their legs touched, then their sides, their arms. He rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder, white curls tickling the side of the demon’s neck. “Is…is this alright?”

Crowley didn’t trust himself to speak. He just tilted his head to rest his cheek in that soft nest of curls and nodded.

“I can…I can learn to cook. Always meant to. I suppose I’ll have the time now. Would you eat it? If I made it?”

“Oh, yes. Every bite.”

“And…and I wouldn’t be a burden?”

Crowley’s other hand came up, taking Aziraphale’s firmly. His right arm, now free, looped around behind the angel, pulling him closer, pressing them into each other. “Never. I told you, we’re on our own side now.” He turned his head, pressing his lips into Aziraphale’s hair. “And demons take care of their own.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated. :)
> 
> Notes:  
> The angel being torn apart was inspired by the Greek myth of Kronos, though one user on Tumblr speculated this might be the origin of Eric the Disposable Demon (also known as Legion).
> 
> The rose garden in Hyde Park (the largest park in London) was added in 1994. There is also a weeping beech tree known as the "upside-down tree."
> 
> Thanks again to Sani-86 for the prompt! I had been working on a bus scene fic for my main series (Sawdust of Words), but I had two ideas and couldn't use them both. This story allowed me to explore the other idea! ;)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Anywhere You Want To Go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964067) by [EdnaV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdnaV/pseuds/EdnaV)




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